I honestly, completely, with-all-my-heart believe that it’s not yet the last.

It can’t be the last! It just can’t be.

I mean, come on, it’s good business! I think the Heads profited in two concerts (not to mention all the DVDs and records sold in between the two big events) everything they could’ve earned the past ten years that the band was off the music business. Pupil or Sandwich or The Dawn or Markus Highway could never fill up the MOA grounds and pull off what the Eraserheads did that night. Nope.

More importantly, everyone loved them! A decade, countless of controversies and bad publicities, several new bands, a bunch of music albums, and a couple of heart attacks later, everyone still loves the Eraserheads.

I was *accidentally* there last Saturday and I witnessed it myself, thanks to Marian who, just a few hours before the concert, textblast-ed that she had extra tickets. Hooray for impulsive decisions! I didn’t have to think it over, I just reserved the tickets right away.

Remember when I said that the apartment I moved in to less than two months ago was, like, the worst thing that ever happened to my history of apartment-hopping? Well, I just left that apartment and found myself a new (more expensive BUT much much better) place.

5 different apartments in 2 years, take that!

Actually, I was still (kindof) enjoying going home to Caloocan and sharing my Mom’s bed with her (I had to do this for a week). I didn’t realize, though, how unbelievably messy I could be until one late morning in Caloocan, when I woke up in the middle of this *points to picture*, and found my Mom sleeping near the edge of her bed. I knew right then that I had no time to lose — I needed to spare my Mom from this mess.

Moving to the new place was no different, at least for the first night. I slept in the middle of a room full of moving boxes, but in spite of the mess, the place felt like home. :)

Even more now that everything’s right where it should be.

So yay, I found my home-away-from-home, and this time, I’m confident it will be for good. (What with that one year contract, and the expensive rent, I’ll sure make the most out of this, heh!) :)

There’s nothing magical about turning 25. At least I’ve proven that myself now. There was no thunder and lightning, no additional white hairs (at least none that I noticed of), no booming voice from above sending specific life instructions your way. Mostly, everything’s just a continuation of the day before, just like any other year. Some say that things are bound to change from here on — but I guess that’s a pretty generic thing to say, after all, everything’s bound to change anyway.

But one of the cool things about being 25 is perhaps, the illusion that you really are a grown-up now. (No, I’m not sure I was ever regarded as a “grown-up” when I was 24. Hah!)

Yep, no one would dare tell you you’re “too young” for something when you’re 25. (Except maybe too young to die? Hmm.) But well, 25 years is a lot of years, I know right. I was thinking of blogging about 25 things I learned on my 25th year, or 25 places I want to go to this year, or 25 items in my shopping list, or 25 gifts I received.. but gaah, 25 is just too many now for this lazy blogger that I am. Sorry naman.

So let me just make kwento about how I spent my 25th birthday. :)

Ironically, while it was my official grand entrance to the world of quarter-life, I ended up celebrating a pink day in the office (which kind of reminds me of Disney princess, lol), and a Mcdonald’s kiddie party with my most favorite kids in the world. Not too grown-up, eh? :)

The first one was a surprise — my team came to work in pink, and because I was overwhelmed by the pinkness that they were, we had boxes of pizza delivered in the afternoon. Thanks guys, I’ve never seen that much pink in my life it’s.. sickening. :))

USAP’s SEO-Internet Marketing Department in Pink

The second one was rather impulsive — (accidentally) passing by Mcdonalds two days before my birthday, I decided to book a kiddie party right there and then. I’ve always wanted one but I didn’t really plan on having it this year. But now I realize that it was definitely the best time to do it. I would have invited my friends too, but I thought it would be more meaningful to share it with kids, specifically those who have not experienced being in one before. So I invited them:

Here are the boys from SBC’s Street Children Ministry

My Dad loved these kids. Some of them are homeless, some have families in the urban poor areas in Manila, some don’t even know who their parents are. The smile on their faces is undoubtedly the best gift I’ve ever received. :)

So yep, that was my 25th birthday. Couldn’t have spent it any other way. I guess if there’s one thing I learned that day, it would be acknowledging that one can’t really live alone and independent from anyone — and still be genuinely happy. Life is simply not worth living if you don’t have people to share it with.

I’ve experienced independence (to some extent), and sometimes I enjoy being in solitude too. But to go through this journey without family and friends backing you up, or without someone holding your hand and giving you everything-is-going-to-be-alright hugs when you need them, or without a God who’s in control of even the littlest details in your life.. ugh, living is simply impossible. Thank God He allowed me to have all these. Thank God that I didn’t have to go through the past 25 years, and that I won’t have to go through the next 25 years, by myself.

Happy Birthday to me. :)

Segue: Interested to have a Mcdonald’s kiddie party in the Philippines? Details after the jump. ;)

Well, not really. A lot of my things are still out, and I still don’t know how to jam them all in these moving boxes.

After almost two years of staying under the same roof, we’re parting from some of our (soon-to-be-former) housemates and leaving this place we once called “home”. But it’s all good. Change is good, after all. And it’s not like I won’t be seeing Normi and Jen anymore. I’d still be staying with Aster anyway, and Ivy, a friend from way-back-diaper-days, will be joining us too. Plus we found the perfect apartment also, after a whole month of trying to look for one. It’ll be fun. And I’m excited and nostalgic and uhm, sleepy (right). But it’s all good. :)

So hey, I’m in the middle of a pile of clothes and boxes and shoes and dirty laundry right now, taking a break from all the packing, and trying my best to capture the moment and how it feels.

(Note worthy: This post is not brought to you by Tortillos or Merell.)

Now is the time to feel stressed, and to think of a nice long bath, but there’s still a lot to do. However, on top of the adrenalin rush, I can sense this teeny weeny bit of nostalgia in the air — which I think is inevitable, especially if you’re leaving a place you’ve spent some of the best months of your life in, and you’d most likely never set foot in that place again.

I mean, how can I forget all those nights I entered that door to find sanctuary in the four corners of this room after a long day at work?

Or that bulletin board that once was a collage of bills, and photos, and notes, and star-shaped pushpins?

And how can I forget that view from my favorite spot in the veranda — the same view where I last saw my Dad’s smile, (and the same place where I last felt your arms around me)?

Hay. Priceless moments in this place. I shall always remember.

I would have taken more pictures, but my mess awaits. This nagging voice inside my head keeps on reminding me that I’m no longer a little girl, and there’s no more yaya to pack my things and do the tasks that are supposed to be mine. Gah. It’s tiring to be an adult.

Tomorrow, we’ll be leaving this apartment, and will start filling a new one with new memories.

And it’s really not that big of a deal for me to be blogging about it.

Except that it once again made me think about how time flies so fast, and that life involves a lot of moving on.

Last June 2, our church had a medical-dental mission at Mambugan, Antipolo. Just a backgrounder, I’ve always avoided assisting in the dental department because I couldn’t stand seeing all the gory action happening inside the (ugh) mouth, the bloodshed, and the tears. This last time, however, it was as if I was called to be there. They needed assistance, and I was there, and while no one really forced me to help out, I took the challenge of being the dentist’s assistant cum makeshift dental chair.

Now to defend myself from a church-full of witnesses, this picture does not (AT ALL) describe how I was the whole day. And Jasper, who arrived just a few hours short to assist with me, can attest to that (right dude?)

With our designated Dentist for the day (and my cousin in law, too), Dr. Jojo.

Contrary to what this picture shows, I kindof enjoyed it, really. No, not the part where you get to witness anesthesia being injected into the gums, and teeth being extracted, and saliva and blood gushing all over the place. Mostly, I took joy in holding a scared kid’s hand while his mollars were being pulled out, or conversing with mothers about trivial things while they waited for the anesthesia to seep in, or assuring a little girl “na parang kagat lang ng langgam yan” when she’s on the verge of backing out.

There were times when I felt like shutting my eyes off because it’s like I could feel their pain, or times when I’d struggle for the right words of comfort to say. I can’t even remember how many times Jasper and I said “parang kagat lang ng langgam yan“, and then we’d look at each other and silently laugh, knowing that it’s really more painful than that. You know you just had to say it to give them a little push, or to let them know that there are far more painful experiences in the world than an extracted tooth.

It was therapeutic saying those things to kids, and hearing yourself as if you need it too. After some time you get used to the sight of blood, and to the shrieks of pain. After some time you get relieved for them because you know that they’d go back home armed with a pack of pain killers to last a whole week, and the pain would soon be gone. And then you watch them leave and you know that if only for that one moment that God allowed you to be there in their time of pain, the experience was definitely worth it all.

With Nanay Beth Miana, another one of SBC’s very own dedicated doctors.

As if reading old blog posts was not enough, I found myself reading random pages from my old journals too. And then I found this one journal entry I wrote 2 years ago, on May 1, 2005. It was my Mom and Dad’s 31st anniversary then, and apparently, it was a few days after Dad was released from the hospital following his heart surgery.

Thirty one years of being together, whoa. I can only imagine their joy now that their love was able to survive a series of trials, and tears, and fears, and tests. Today was indeed a time to celebrate as their 31-year-old vow — the one which says, “for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health..” — was made real right before their and everyone else’s eyes.

Dad’s heart surgery (and our fear that we could lose him anytime) was surely a part of a plan grand-er than anything we could think of. Perhaps God, the Great Author of love and romance, planned to make this year’s anniversary more memorable, sweeter even.

Someday, if God wills, I’d get to make that vow too.. And if that happens, I shall look back on Mommy and Daddy’s love story, knowing full well that God had been the One writing the script.

Someday, I’ll have my own love story to tell too.

There goes your 21 year old Rhiz. (Eek!) A lot has changed since then, (somewhere along the way I have become somewhat bitter and cynical, haha), but one cannot deny that in a world where breakups and failed marriages and broken families are staple, one still hope for a love story worth telling the grand kids.

Last May 1, no matter how we tried to be happy (coz that’s what Daddy would have wanted) , I know there’s a deep longing in our hearts, wishing that Daddy was still here, and he and Mom were celebrating their anniversary as always.

Mommy and Daddy didn’t take a lot of pictures. The few ones they have, however, will always remind me, us, that in spite of all the differences and obstacles that married couples have to face, fairytales still do happen.

Christmas 2005

Our church’s medical and dental mission, 2006

Lola’s birthday, February 2007

Christmas 2006

Last May 1 would have marked my Mom and Dad’s 33rd year together. They would have continued serving the Lord together, and making a difference in other people’s lives, and growing old with each other. But God has something else in mind, after all, His ways are always higher than ours.

Dad’s death was not the end of their love story. Just as his legacy, their love story lives on too. Now, their 33-year-old vow — that part which says, “for better or worse, til death do us part” — was made real right before our eyes over again.